Broken Pieces
by ShadowsTakeAll
Summary: A rainy night; a phone call; a confession. And suddenly Hanna's standing on the bridge and everything is falling apart. [S4 Haleb.]
1. Confession

**Hey everyone, and welcome to a brand new #DarkAsShadows story. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my writing, here's a warning: it's not happy. It's full of angst and darkness and character deaths, so this is not for the faint of heart. This story is especially light on the fluff, so if you feel like curling up into a ball of feels, go right ahead and read. If not, you might want to find something lighter.**

**Now that's out of the way, some background. Because she is one of the loveliest people I know, ****Bagilia**** forgave me for doing something horrible (shipping Caleb with someone who wasn't Hanna), and requested a dark/angsty Haleb story. Which is what this is. If you want true brilliance, though, go read her story ****_'My Heart With You'_**** because it is amazing and will tear your heart to pieces.**

**For now, here is the first chapter of what will be a fairly short story, but it's intense. If I get enough of a response to this one I may write more Haleb in the future, because let's face it the show messed that up completely and we need something to satisfy ourselves. So follow, favorite, review, and I shall see you next time!**

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_Look at this heart shaped wreckage;  
>what have we done?<br>We've got scars from battles nobody won.  
>We can start over, better,<br>both of us know, if we just let the broken pieces,  
>let the broken pieces go.<em>

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"You cheated on me." Hanna rubs her temple with the fingers on one hand as she uses the other to hold her cell. The words she has just echoed sound so foreign and yet terrifyingly true, but she won't let herself believe them. Maybe she misheard; maybe the words got jumbled somewhere down the line. Maybe he'll explain what he meant and they'll laugh at the misunderstanding and he'll drive down from Ravenswood to spend the night. Maybe it will be okay.

But he offers no explanations, only apologies. "I'm sorry, Hanna. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just -"

"When?" she interrupts, still not letting herself contemplate the fact that this might be true. That Caleb, the one person she trusted with her whole heart, has turned around and torn it to pieces.

Through the line, she can hear the sound of him swallowing nervously. "T-two weeks ago."

The words make Hanna sink to her bed, her legs no longer able to hold her up. She's been living a lie for the past two weeks. She'd gone through the days believing that Caleb was still loyal to her, even though he'd gone to Ravenswood. He'd let her believe that she was still his, that she still had his heart, that their entire relationship wasn't crumbling down around them.

"Hanna, talk to me," he says desperately, his voice crackling with static.

Leaning back, Hanna looks out the window. It's dark already, and through the dim glow of the streetlight she can see that a storm is gathering. Any minute now it will break, and if she's lucky it'll take her with it. "I have nothing to say to you," she says simply. "It's over. Goodbye, Caleb."

Then she hangs up the phone, letting it fall to the ground beside her. She waits for the tears, but they don't come. She is completely numb, frozen to the spot, weighted down by the knowledge that her boyfriend has betrayed her. And if she can't trust him, who does she have left?

Hardly aware of what she's doing, she pads through the empty house, down the stairs, ending up in the kitchen. She searches through drawers and cupboards and behind packets of cereal, finally finding the one thing that might give her the peace she now so desperately needs.

Outside, a bolt of lightning splits the sky in two.

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"Damn it." Caleb flings his phone across the room, not even flinching as it crashes against the wall. He presses his fist to his mouth, trembling. How could he have been so stupid? He shouldn't have told her over the phone – but he knows he never could have faced her and still had the courage to say what he needed to.

"Are you okay?" Miranda asks from where she's sitting over by the window.

He looks up at her and then away. There's no way to answer that question. He's just lost the love of his life, so how can he ever hope to be okay again? And after what he's just done, would he deserve it anyway?

He starts pacing around the small room, cursing everything he can think of: Ravenswood, for taking him away from his home; Miranda, for making him think he belonged here; himself, for making the biggest mistake of his life.

The rumble of thunder in the background isn't enough to interrupt his thoughts. They gather momentum as they race around his mind, pressing up against the edges of his brain in an effort to escape. But he will never be free of them, not until he makes things right.

"Caleb," Miranda says softly. "You did what you had to -"

He cuts her off, rounding on her with anger blazing in his eyes. "No. I shouldn't have done that."

Knowing that most of his anger isn't directed at her, Miranda merely lowers her gaze and says, "It was the right thing to do."

"Was it?" he shoots back, and Miranda just gives half a shrug, as lost as he is. From its place on the floor his phone beeps once, and he snatches it up, hoping for half a second that it might be Hanna. His hopes are soon dashed and he tosses the phone away again as he sees it's not from her. He doesn't care who it's from; there's no one else he'd want to talk to.

Another clap of thunder sounds, rolling over the hills like a wave, and Caleb makes up his mind. He grabs the nearest bag, shoves a few items into it at random, and picks up his phone, tucking it into his pocket. He's halfway to the door before Miranda realizes what he's doing. She doesn't bother to ask, because they both know where he's going. Instead she says, "Be careful."

He nods, not looking back, and then walks out the door. He's barely made it to his car by the time the rain starts; it skips the drizzle and sprinkle stages, diving right into a downpour. As he pulls onto the main road, the only road leading out of town, Caleb can barely see through the windshield. But he doesn't need to see.

Tonight, he's following his heart.

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Realizing how light the bottle feels, Hanna holds it up to the lamp, and feels disappointed when she sees that it's empty. She throws it aside, not even aware of how much wine she's had until she tries to stand up. The room sways around her and gravity pushes her back down, but she shrugs it off and stumbles over to the counter. Hauling herself upright again, she takes a few deep breaths.

The alcohol isn't having the desired effect. It isn't dulling the pain; if anything it's only filtering it, so that it's more of a magenta than a bright red. With each breath the truth reverberates through her body, making her feel unbearably cold. Suddenly the spacious kitchen seems suffocating, and no amount of deep breaths will calm her down.

Her mind takes a moment to catch up with her movements, so she's almost at the door by the time she realizes she's started walking. It takes her a couple of tries to grasp the doorknob, but finally she manages to wrench the door open. A flash of lightning illuminates the street before her as she takes her first step outside, and somehow even the old familiar houses on her block look menacing in the semi-darkness. It's like Caleb's confession has colored her world, tainting it, making everything seem sinister and darker.

The door closes behind her and she turns back to it, suddenly aware of just how heavily it's raining. But the door is locked, and she's not in any state to find the spare key hidden in one of the flowerpots near the path. Taking it as an omen, she turns her back on the door and walks down the path.

Within seconds she's soaked, but the alcohol creates a barrier so that she doesn't feel the cold. Time loses all meaning as she wanders the streets of Rosewood, lost in her thoughts. Between the chaos in her mind and the rain pouring down, Hanna begins to feel like she's drowning. But by this point she can't even tell where she is, so even if she wanted go home she's not sure she'd be able to find it.

After a while she ends up at the bridge on the outskirts of town, the wind flinging her hair wildly around her face and bringing tears to her eyes. Her stockings are ripped from falling over several times and she's carrying her shoes; even her legendary sense of balance isn't enough to counteract their effect when she's intoxicated.

She comes to a stop on the side of the bridge, her toes curled over the edge. Her shoes fall to the ground, and she doesn't even notice when one is swept away by the river of rainwater that's rushing through the gutter. She stares down at the water below; somehow she'd never noticed just how high above the river the bridge was.

The longer she stands there, the more desolate she feels. The torrents below her, turbid due to the pounding rain, suddenly seem inviting. She teeters on the edge of the bridge, on the edge of a decision, feeling sick and scared and, above all, heartbroken.

And in that moment, she knows she's ready to let go.

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**Things look really bad for Haleb, I know. That said, I promise there's hope for them. But, well, you know what they say about hope...**


	2. Deadly

**Hi guys, and thanks for all the reviews. It's great to see some old friends and some new faces, and I hope to see you all in future chapters. So here's the next installment, heavy on the angst, hope you enjoy it. Reviews make me the happiest little Hufflepuff there is, so don't hold back. See you guys next time!**

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Rain pounds against the windshield and the noise hammers against Caleb's heart. His phone is in his pocket, heavy against his leg, the weight of his words pressing down on him with suffocating force.

Hanna is the love of his life, and he'd pledged long ago to do anything to protect her. He would kill for her, he would die for her, but none of that can take back those words he said. _I cheated on you. _She hadn't asked for clarification and he hadn't given any. It didn't matter how far he'd gone or who it was with; what mattered was that he had broken her heart, and he can never take that back.

The drive back to Rosewood seems a thousand times longer than the bus ride into Ravenswood that first fateful night. When he'd rushed to Hanna's defense, only to be thrown into something so far beyond his control that he'd had to leave Rosewood, leave Hanna, behind. Now he's part of a mystery he's no closer to unravelling, and it just might have caused him to lose the one person who means everything to him.

The roads are slick but he barely slows down around the corners. He's feeling reckless, spurred on by fear that Hanna will do something stupid. She's normally careful, but he knows all too well how damaging a broken heart can be. If she's caught up in the moment, swept away by emotions, there's no telling what she could do. As he glances at the clock and realizes how far he has to go, he debates calling one of the other girls.

But Hanna's heartbreak is not his secret to tell. If she wants to talk to the girls, she will. He has no right to tell them what he did, and if she wants to keep it to herself in order to make a clean break, he's not going to stop her. The moment he broke her heart he lost all rights to make decisions like that, but he knows he needs to see her one last time.

Even if she slams the door in his face, slaps him as hard as she can, tells him that she never wants to see him again – he just needs to know that she's okay. He can live with breaking her heart if he knows it might have saved her life.

Rosewood finally looms ahead in the distance like a monster crouching in his path, ready to swallow him up. He drives straight into the monster's mouth, no hesitation present in his expression or his actions. If anything he speeds up slightly as he passes the Welcome sign, knowing his goal is in sight.

He's about to take the turnoff to Hanna's house when he sees a lone figure standing on the bridge. His foot hovers for a second over the brake, and then he presses down on it, sliding to a stop a few feet away.

"Hello?" he calls out tentatively as he steps from the car. Rain hits him with so much force he almost staggers backward, but then his eyes adjust to the gloom and he realizes who's standing on the bridge. He realizes who's about to jump off the edge. He realizes he's about to lose the love of his life. His heart hits the ground and shatters, and then he's running, shouting her name, rain mingling with the tears on his cheeks, and a part of him knows it's already too late.

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A flood of light washes over Hanna and she hears the sound of tires on the road, but she doesn't look. Her eyes are fixed on a rock far below, jutting out of the water like an iceberg, and she's wondering how much it would hurt to land on it. Surely no more than hearing those words, those unthinkable words, fall from Caleb's mouth. Nothing could ever hurt so much, could ever break her so completely.

A voice floats across the distance to her, but the meaningless words are muffled by the rain. Her hair is soaked and her heart is saturated with tears that stopped falling long ago; she's beyond tears, beyond hope, beyond reason. The water looks more inviting every second.

Something is holding her back, but she doesn't know what it is. She doesn't care what it is, she just wants to get rid of it. Finally she lifts her gaze to the sky, challenging a god she doesn't believe in to do something. A bolt of lightning, a sudden gust of wind. Anything so that she wouldn't have to make this decision herself. She doesn't want to jump, but she knows she's about to fall. And she can't find the strength to move.

For a second she wishes A were here. It would be so easy to give up, to let A win. At least she could make A happy with her death, since she apparently wasn't enough to make Caleb happy in life. Alcohol swishes in her stomach and she's dimly aware that it's impairing her judgment, but that doesn't matter. It can't be any worse than her last lapse in judgment: trusting Caleb. Thinking he loved her. Letting herself love _him_.

A single word breaks through the chaos of the storm, as if the rain is delivering it right to her heart. One word, laced with pain and longing, shouted by the very person who's the reason she's out here. She used to shiver when he said her name, but now when she hears it she can do no more than wince.

She hears footsteps but she still doesn't look up. It's too late, it's all over. The river beckons to her, and she leans forward, ready to let go. At least the river makes no excuses, makes no attempt to cover up the darkness it holds. It is what it is, and it doesn't try to convince her otherwise. There's no deception, only desperation.

The wind nudges her forward and she doesn't try to stop it. She starts to fall, and for a second she feels weightless, free, terrified and yet content. This is the end, and maybe she's okay with that. What does she have to live for now anyway? Her friends will be fine without her, her family will move on. Nobody will be any worse off for her absence.

Hanna closes her eyes, all thoughts trickling away until there's nothing but peace. Then there's a shout that turns into a scream, an onrush of pain that takes her breath away, and the water catches her, wrapping her up in a deadly embrace.

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**Sorry not sorry. Cliffhangers are my favorite thing.**


	3. Breathe

**Psych.**

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_Oh god, I've killed her._

Caleb struggles into a sitting position, blinking through his rain-soaked hair. Hanna is lying a few feet away, submerged in a shin-deep puddle, not moving. Then one of her feet twitches and he scrambles over to her, his side aching from the impact. Instinct had taken over, had caused him to hurl himself toward her, knocking her to the ground. Anything to stop her from going over the edge.

He reaches her, wraps his arms around her, pulls her from the water. She takes a gasping breath, spitting water out. For a second he deludes himself into thinking she'll be grateful, but then she turns her gaze on him and all hopes of gratitude vanish. Her eyes are colder than the rainwater still pouring down, darker than the raging river beneath the bridge. She shoves at him; in its force it's ineffectual, but its meaning is clear. He lets her go and she lurches to her feet, still glaring at him.

"Get away from me," she slurs, and suddenly the whole scene makes sense. She's been drinking. She's heartbroken. And he's the reason she was standing on the bridge, ready to jump, waiting to fall.

"Not until I know you're safe." He stands up, dripping water, but doesn't bother to wring any of his clothes out.

"What do you care?" The words are said with an edge to them, but she's not looking at him. Her gaze is fixed on a place down the river; her intended destination.

"I care, Hanna," he says, knowing it's inadequate but being unable to offer any other explanation.

She lets out a snort of laughter and starts to walk away, only to trip over her own feet and stumble. Caleb is by her side before she falls, catching her by one arm and steadying her. For a heartbeat she leans against him, and he feels close to her, almost unbearably so. Then she pulls away and distance settles in between them.

He tries to cross it, but his outstretched hand falls to his side when he sees the anger burning in Hanna's eyes.

"Let me drive you home," he offers.

"Go screw yourself."

He's unsurprised by the sentiment, but slightly taken aback by the venom in her tone. "Hanna," he says imploringly, "the weather's horrible, you're drunk, and I just found you about to jump off a bridge."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

The words snake into his heart, biting into him with a slow poison that trickles through his blood. If Hanna hates him this much, then everything he's done means nothing. "No," he says, so softly he's not sure she can hear him over the rain. "I would never want to see you hurt." _And it kills me that I'm the one who hurt you_.

Hanna doesn't reply, and her silence is more painful than her words. The wind picks up, slamming rain into him so forcefully he has to close his eyes for a moment. When he opens them Hanna is swaying, as if the effort of standing is too much for her. Without thinking he reaches for her, and she doesn't shy away.

"Come on," he says, gently pulling her arm. "I'll drive you home."

"I don't want you to drive me home," Hanna says, with a cold glance at his hand on her arm. But she doesn't move away, so Caleb tries his luck.

"Right now I don't care about what you want," he says, more sharply than he'd meant. Pain softens his voice as he adds, "I just care about keeping you alive."

Aside from her face going several shades paler, Hanna doesn't react. "I walked here," she says, which he'd already figured out. "I can walk home by myself."

"I'm not going to leave you, not when… not in this weather." A car rolls past, slows a little, and then drives on, as if the person inside were trying to decide whether their help was needed. "Please," he says, even though he knows he's already lost his chance. As if to prove that she doesn't need him, the wind dies down and the rain starts to fade away. The weather still isn't pleasant, but it's bearable. Easy enough to walk home in.

Instead of causing Hanna to hold her head high and walk away, triumphant once again, the sudden cessation seems to bring her closer to him. She shivers, wraps her arms around herself, and then walks toward his car without a word.

Caleb's senses kick in and he hurries to the car, opening the door for her and waiting until she's inside before going back around to the driver's side. As Caleb starts the car and steers carefully around the puddle he'd pushed Hanna into, he glances over at her, his heart still pounding at the thought that tonight he'd almost lost her.

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Hanna stares resolutely out the window the entire drive. Her thoughts are still swirling, her feelings roiling, but above all is a faint relief. She hates that it was Caleb who rescued her, but in the safety of the car she allows herself to think the very thing she couldn't consider back on the bridge: she doesn't want to die.

For a few seconds there, balanced on the edge of life and death, she had thought she wanted to. But that's not it, not quite. She just doesn't want to have to live without Caleb. But how is she meant to forgive him, after what he did? How can she possibly move on from someone to whom she'd given her entire heart, when she knows that he will always have pieces of it?

She wraps her arms around herself, suppressing a shiver. Caleb throws a look her way before quickly focusing on the road again, as if he's worried she'll change her mind if she sees his attention. Like she's going to fling open the door and let herself tumble out, completing the action she'd intended to carry out back at the bridge. He'll just assume she's shivering because she's cold, but it's more than that. Fear has wrapped a tendril around her heart and is squeezing, making it hard to breathe. Life without Caleb. It's not something she could ever be prepared for.

The drive seems to take forever, but is over in the blink of an eye. Caleb pulls up outside her house, kills the engine, hesitates. He seems to be about to speak, but then he closes his mouth and gets out of the car. Hanna stays where she is, even when he opens the door for her – ever the gentleman, even when he's cleaning up the mess he made.

After a long pause, during which Hanna runs a finger along a cut on her arm, Caleb reaches in. Instinctively she grabs his hand, and can't quite bring herself to let go, even when the voice of reason pipes up. Caleb pulls her from the car, steadying her as she wobbles on her feet, and starts to lead her up to the house.

She's only taken a few steps when she realizes something. Turning back to the car, she mumbles, "My shoes…"

Caleb stops, looking at her in confusion. His eyes flicker down to her feet, bare aside from the scuffed stockings. "What?"

"My shoes," Hanna says again, feeling inexplicably anxious. As if losing one more thing tonight will be enough to break her, as if being able to keep track of her own shoes will be enough to prove that she's not a complete failure. "I must have left them back…"

Her words trail off into a vague gesture, a hand wave encompassing all of Rosewood. Caleb nods, understanding. "I'll buy you new ones tomorrow, okay? Let's just get you inside."

Reluctantly, Hanna turns her sights homeward again. She watches silently as Caleb fishes the spare key out from underneath a pot plant, and she wonders how hard it will be to cut him out of her life. He's part of every aspect of her existence, and to extricate him will take more skill and strength than she possesses.

His hand on her arm, he leads her inside the house. Without hesitation, he takes on the role of caretaker: sends her upstairs to get into dry clothes, brews her a mug of hot tea, wraps a blanket around her when she settles down in the nearest armchair.

She holds the tea in one hand, the other clutching the blanket, holding it to her chest like a lifesaver. She's been home less than ten minutes when the doorbell rings. Startled, she almost jumps from her chair, but Caleb doesn't seem concerned. He goes to the door, ushers people in, and returns to Hanna, who stares at the newcomers in confusion.

_Oh_, she thinks faintly, _he must have called them when I was upstairs_. Of course he called them. Spencer, Emily, and Aria are gathered around her, taking in her appearance with identical looks of concern.

"Hanna," Spencer says, her eyes wide. It looks like she'd been asleep; her hair is messy and her outfit is haphazard, thrown together in a hurry.

Aria looks like she took a lot more care. Her hair is curled at the ends and her red dress is tasteful but somewhat revealing. "What happened?" Aria asks, and Hanna realizes she must have been on a date with Jake.

Emily sits down on the edge of the armchair, resting a tentative but comforting hand on Hanna's shoulder. "Can we get you anything?" she offers, pulling a loose thread of her sweatshirt, which Hanna recognizes as one that Paige had bought her for her birthday.

"Yeah," Spencer says quickly, eager to make up for her lack of preparation with pure enthusiasm, "tell us what you want and we'll get it for you."

Hanna chews on her lip. She sets her mug of tea on the table, pulls the blanket closer around her. Considers. Then, her heart breaking even as she says it, she realizes what she needs. "I want you," she says to Caleb, enunciating each word carefully, "to get the hell out of my house."

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**So there we have it. Hanna's alive, but it looks like she wants nothing to do with Caleb. How do you think he's going to react?**

**Also, thank you all so much for the reviews. I'm starting to think I've been writing for the wrong ships, because you Haleb shippers are all so lovely and supportive and it really warms my bitter single heart (okay, so I don't like Valentine's Day, give me a break).**

**I'm going to update either when I get to 40 reviews, or towards the end of the weekend. So review away, and I'll see you guys next time!**


	4. Shot

**Well. That was unexpected. You guys got me to 40 reviews in about twelve hours, which is just astonishing. And you were all so sweet and so lovely that I was actually speechless. That's right, you guys were so nice you made a ****_Hufflepuff_**** speechless. Be proud of yourselves. I wish I could reply to each and every one of you, but if I did that the AN would be longer than the chapter. So I'll take this moment to thank all of you for your heartwarming reviews; and if you want to chat, you're more than welcome to PM me anytime.**

**Now. This chapter. Just, brace yourselves. Not even kidding. I'll update when I get to 60 reviews (that's right, I'm upping the stakes) or around the end of the weekend. Also, letting you guys know, don't feel too safe with this story. I won't give too much away, but someone will die by the end of it. Just saying.**

**So, enjoy, review, and I'll see you next time!**

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As soon as Hanna says the words she drops her gaze, unable to meet his eyes and unwilling to see the hurt she knows will be there. There seems to be more than enough pain to go around tonight, and she hates to add to it; but there's nothing else to do, nothing she can say. She needs Caleb gone, now.

He stares at her for a long moment while silence envelopes the room, looking like he might try to argue with her. To her relief he doesn't, but the other girls don't seem as accepting of the idea.

"Hanna," Aria says cautiously, "are you sure?"

"Caleb just wants to help," Emily adds, as optimistic as always.

Tonight it rubs Hanna the wrong way. She looks at each of her friends in turn, ignoring the way the edges of her vision blur. Then she says clearly, "I want Caleb to leave."

Although still confused, the girls don't need any further instructions. Emily slides down the arm of the chair until she's sitting right beside Hanna, and although the latter doesn't say it, she does feel slightly better for the closeness. Aria folds her arms, her eyes darting between Caleb and Hanna, trying to put the pieces into place like a jigsaw spread out before her.

"I think you should go," Spencer says firmly, turning to face Caleb. He opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts across before he can. "I don't know what happened tonight, and right now I don't need to know. But what I do know is that Hanna doesn't want you here, and that's enough for me."

Hanna leans against Emily's shoulder, her breathing still shaky; fear, alcohol, and coldness had taken their toll on her, and if she weren't so close to tears she would probably be close to falling asleep instead. She can hear Caleb's sharp intake of breath, but she still doesn't look up. There's a small patch of wet carpet a few feet away from her, the result of a miniscule leak in the roof. She keeps her eyes focused on that, letting the world shrink until there's nobody else here.

"Call me if you need," Caleb says, and her world expands again. She glances up at him, sees Spencer not-so-gently nudging him out of the room. Aria sits down on the other side of Hanna, not saying anything, but knowing that's exactly what Hanna needs right now.

From her sanctuary on the chair, Hanna watches Caleb jerk his head, signaling to Spencer that he wants to talk to her. The pair head to the door, and Hanna dimly hears them exchange a few tense words. From the way Spencer glances back at her, Hanna is left in no doubt as to the nature of the conversation.

Caleb lingers in the doorway, seeming torn, and for half a second Hanna wants to call him back. But the sting of his betrayal is still too fresh, a weight settled next to her heart, making the words impossible. _I need you_.

There's a rush of cold air, a lock clicking into place, and then Spencer comes back over. She stands before Hanna, sympathy and worry battling in her face. The latter wins out. "Is it true?" Spencer asks, her mouth a thin line and her eyes dark. "What Caleb just told me. Did you…?"

A non-committal shrug is Hanna's first answer, but on seeing that it's not sufficient, she says, "I guess. Sort of."

The world is spinning again, and she can't tell whether it's from anxiety or alcohol. She closes her eyes again, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, silently begging for this night to be over.

"Hanna," Aria says, her voice sharp with worry, "what's going on?"

When Hanna doesn't answer, Emily asks Spencer, "What did Caleb tell you?"

"He said," Spencer says, sounding like she's forcing the words out through gritted teeth, "that he found Hanna standing out on the bridge… She was about to jump."

The silence that follows is so long that Hanna actually wonders if she's fallen asleep. Then she hears movement, and feels Aria's hand resting on her shoulder, then drifting up and playing with the ends of her blonde hair, a familiar gesture of comfort. On her other side, Emily is completely still.

"Han," Spencer says, and from the way her words float over her, Hanna guesses that the other girl is crouching in front of her, "why would you do that? What happened?"

After all A has put them through, Hanna knows it's unfair to have put them through this. To have scared them so badly, interrupted their evenings, to even now be retreating so far into herself that she knows part of her will never come back.

"Please," Aria says, her voice shaking like she's holding back a sob. "Tell us what happened."

Hanna shakes her head, not opening her eyes. She burrows further into Emily's shoulder, wishing that she could go back to this morning, when she was blissfully ignorant and not pathetically broken-hearted. For the next ten minutes her friends try different tactics, attempting to wheedle the words out of her, trying to understand why she's so miserable. But she doesn't say anything, because she doesn't know how to explain it.

How is she supposed to tell them that the only person who could possibly fix her heart is the one who broke it in the first place?

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The second he steps outside, Caleb is hit by a gust of wind so strong he actually stumbles back half a step. The rain has slowed down, as if it's made its point and now is ready to move on, but the clouds are still sinister overhead and lightning still crackles over the distant hills. The door slams closed behind him – not because of the wind, but because of Spencer. Because Hanna had insisted that he leave, and the other girls had backed her up.

He did what he could, warning Spencer that Hanna's not herself and giving a brief account of where and how he found her. He knows Hana wouldn't want the girls to find out, but if it comes down to betraying Hanna's trust and saving her life, he will always choose the same option. She's safe now, at least, and that offers a small amount of comfort, enough to dull the ache of her telling him to get out.

The wind is so loud that it takes him a while to realize there's a sound carrying over it, something sharper. His ringtone. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, using one hand to shield it from the rain as he reads the message. The words settle in his mind, causing his heart to sink. But this is quickly replaced by anger, by desire for action. As thunder booms overhead, he shoves his cell back into his pocket and marches to his car.

The message was a summons: the old park out by Whitby Road, ten minutes from now. Even if resisting were an option, he wouldn't wish to. He needs to finish this, one way or another.

Flicking the windscreen wipers on with an almost aggressive jerk of his hand, he pulls out into the street. Hanna's mother, he recalls, is away on a business trip. But the girls will take care of her, and leaving her this way might be the only way to save her. He wishes it didn't have to be this way, but he can't change that now. He wonders, briefly, what Miranda is doing, how the others are going. Back in Ravenswood, his new – and, he hopes, temporary – home.

Maybe he should have been more open with Hanna. He should have told her about Miranda, about the pact, about creepy old Collins and the soldiers and the fact that, if his hunch is correct, he's probably going to die. But she's had enough to deal with, and to add to her worries about A would have been selfish. At least, that's what he told himself.

Justifications aside, he knows how's made a mistake. He's pushed Hanna so far away she might not come back. Granted, this last mistake, the last sweeping foolish gesture – telling the 'truth' – was not entirely his fault, nor his choice, but that doesn't lessen the lump of guilt that's filling up his chest. Rain beats down against the windshield, his heart beats furiously in his chest, and the car skids slightly taking a corner, the slick roads too much for the old wheels.

The night is dark, and Caleb doesn't dare look at his watch, doesn't want to know what time it is. Every now and then lightning illuminates the streets for a split second before plunging them into an even deeper darkness, and somehow the whole cycle makes Caleb feel uneasy. Searing hope plunging into dark despair. Love turning sour. Hope fading. Can he ever win Hanna back? Does he even deserve her?

The questions swirl around his mind as water swirls around the tires, and finally he pulls up at the park. A couple of street lights flicker feebly around the edges, but most of the park is enclosed in a cloak of darkness. Caleb sits for a moment, shuts the engine off, waits. A shadow appears beneath one of the lights, and after a brief pause beckons to him. After an even shorter pause he opens the door and steps out. It's not as cold outside as he'd expected, but that does nothing to make him feel better.

He strides across the park, not looking left or right, intent on his target. Instinctively he reaches for his phone, and is startled to find it absent. He searches in all his pockets, and then a memory comes back to him: a clap of thunder, drowning out the sound of his phone clattering to the ground back at Hanna's house. Frustrated, his step quickens. This needs to end.

"Hello -" the figure starts, face obscured by their black hood.

"Cut the crap." Caleb comes to a stop before them, his arms folded and his face arranged into his most threatening expression. "I did what you asked me to do, and you know what happened?"

The figure goes to speak, but Caleb answers his own question.

"I told Hanna I cheated on her, and then I drove back to Rosewood – where I found her about to jump off a goddamn bridge." His voice is rising in pitch and he feels his heart rate speed up at the prospect of confrontation. "She's fine, by the way. Not that you care. And I don't care what else you want me to do. It's not going to happen. I almost lost Hanna tonight, and I'm not going to let that happen again. It's over. I'm out."

The figure has been silent this whole time, but now she raises her gaze to meet Caleb's eyes. "That's a shame," she says dispassionately, but Caleb thinks he can hear a hint of something in her words, something softer. "You should know that I don't want to do this, but if that's your final answer, I have no choice."

Before he can ask what she means, he finds out. She pulls a gun from her purse and points it straight at his chest, her hand steady and her eyes unforgiving.

"You know too much," she says simply, as if that excuses what she's about to do. "I can't let you go."

Before Caleb can so much as flinch, she pulls the trigger.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

**Wait what.**


	5. Intent

**Guys, chill. Would I really do that? Okay, yeah, I would. My bad.**

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

The inevitable happens. Persistence, thy name is Spencer. Aria and Emily take a more subtle approach, quietly waiting for Hanna to open up when she's ready. Spencer takes no such route; instead she keeps asking, almost begging Hanna to speak, and at last she does. She runs through a few phrases in her mind, trying to decide which one will be the best to go with. Finally she settles on the simplest. "Caleb and I broke up," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She feels arms around her, and opens her eyes to see Emily embracing her, and Aria looking at her with heartbreaking pity. Spencer's eyes have widened and for a moment she's silent. Hanna holds her breath, wondering if maybe she'll let it go and not demand an explanation. No such luck.

"So what was he doing here?" Spencer asks, sinking to her knees in front of the chair, her eyes never leaving Hanna. "I thought he was still in Ravenswood."

"He was," Hanna says, silently adding 'that's where he was when he called to break my heart'. "He came back."

"Before or after?" Emily asks gently.

It takes Hanna longer than usual to interpret her meaning. "After," she says.

"So he -" Spencer begins, but cuts herself off. "Are you okay?"

Silently Hanna shakes her head, her still-damp hair swishing across her suddenly pale face. She shoots from her chair and dashes up the stairs, fleeing to the bathroom. While she's bent over the toilet bowl, her body ridding itself of the alcohol, she feels a hand on her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Emily sitting beside her, holding her hair back for her. That's when the tears start.

Caleb had done this for her before. He'd seen her at her worst and he still loved her, flaws and faults and all. And she loves him. The knowledge seeps into her heart as the tears trickle down her cheeks. She still loves him. Of course she does. That should never have even been a question. But how is she supposed to trust him again, knowing what she does? Knowing what he did? That he betrayed her, and that he waited so long to tell her…

Something shivers in her mind. Why did he wait so long to tell her? He'd kept it to himself for two weeks – during which time they'd spoken on the phone and emailed each other – but tonight he'd broken his vow of silence and told her. Why? Why hadn't he told her when it first happened, or not told her at all? What had changed tonight?

"Hey," Emily says in mild alarm as Hanna forces herself into a more upright position. "Are you all right?"

Hanna wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling unbearably empty and still slightly sick. "I'm fine," she says unconvincingly, but she has more important things to do than invest energy convincing her friends of a lie.

Emily helps her to her feet and the pair makes their way back down the stairs, Hanna leaning on her friend more than she would like. Aria and Spencer are still downstairs, discussing something in hushed voices. They stop the second Hanna enters the room, and then Aria strides over to her, ignoring Spencer's muttered warning.

"Here," Aria says, holding out her hand and paying no attention to Spencer's admonitions. Hanna blinks, looking at the familiar object in her friend's hand. "I went out to get something from my car and found this on the path. I thought you should have it."

"And I thought we should give you space," Spencer says, coming up to stand beside them. "I told her not to -"

"It's okay." Hanna reaches out and takes Caleb's phone from Aria. Wrapping her hand around it, she sits back down on the chair. Her friends settle themselves around her, and for a few minutes nobody speaks. "Should I look at it?" Hanna asks at last, the phone still clenched in her hand.

The others share a look. "I don't know," Spencer says uncertainly. "I don't know what happened, but -"

"He cheated on me." The words are out of her mouth before she's even aware of thinking them. But she doesn't regret it. They're her friends, and they care about her. The truth is the least she can offer them after all the trouble she's caused today.

"Oh, Han," Aria murmurs, and before Hanna can figure out what's happening, she ends up in the middle of a group hug. She closes her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of security.

When it ends the girls are all looking at her, about to offer more condolences or advice. In a split second of decisiveness, Hanna puts an end to that. She doesn't need sympathy; she needs answers. "I need to know," she says, pressing a button on his phone. Nobody stops her as she inputs the password – their anniversary date, of course – and navigates to the messages section.

The first one, the most recent, is just an address and the words 'ten minutes'. It was sent almost half an hour ago, from a blocked number. The message after that is from someone called Remy – one of his friends in Ravenswood, she recalls. But the one after that makes her blood turn to ice, and she stares at it for so long that Aria actually plucks the phone from her hand just to see what's captured her attention.

"The clock's ticking, Caleb," Aria reads aloud. "Tell her, or I'll send a message of my own – in blood. –A."

Aria's eyes are saucer-wide, and Emily has actually clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. Spencer chews on her lip, and finally says, "So A told him to come clean about it. But why?"

Hanna shrugs, unable to find any words. She'd thought that maybe there was something deeper, something she was missing. Something that would make this okay. But the only thing that had changed today was that A had sent Caleb a threat. For once A's not the one at fault – not entirely, anyway.

"Hanna," Aria says suddenly, "didn't you read this?"

She passes the phone over, and Hanna looks at the message. 'Tell Hanna you cheated on her. Details are up to you. Make it convincing. You know what will happen if you don't. –A."

The words take a while to make sense, but when they do Hanna almost drops the phone in surprise. "A put him up to this," she says, hardly daring to hope. "He didn't do it."

The other girls reciprocate her blossoming smile.

"Oh god," Hanna says as her smile fades. "He thinks I hate him. I need to see him -"

She's halfway out of her seat when Spencer pushes her gently back down. "You're in no state to be going anywhere," she says, sounding suddenly very maternal.

"But I need to see him -"

"I'll find him," Aria offers. She takes the phone back and read the latest message. "This is probably where he'll be."

"It could be dangerous," Hanna protests. "What if A -"

"I'll go with her," Emily interrupts. "You and Spencer stay here. We'll go find Caleb and bring him back, okay?"

Hanna looks from Emily to Aria and back again, wanting to argue but lacking the energy. "Fine," she says, slumping back in the chair. "But be careful, okay?"

After making their promises and assurances, Emily and Aria slip out the door. Hanna stares after them, trying to quell her mounting sense of doom. What if they're too late?

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

At first, the pain is secondary to the shock. An indignant kind of horror shoots through Caleb's eyes as the bullet speeds through his shoulder, ripping through muscle and skin with terrifying ease. He even lets out a startled cry as he drops to the ground, one hand flying up to the wound as if to stop something that has already happened. He can't tell if at the last minute the shooter had changed their aim, or if in the dark their aim hadn't been as true as they would have liked; whatever the intent, the result is the same.

He hits the ground hard, but he doesn't even feel the impact because the pain in his shoulder is already taking all of his attention. A dull tremor runs through him as he feels blood spurt through his fingers. He can't even tell if the bullet is still in him, but he's lucid enough to know that at this stage it probably doesn't make a difference.

"I'll give Hanna your regrets," Mona says, tucking the gun back into her bag as casually as if it were lipstick. She gives him a sad smile, entirely feigned, and then she disappears back into the shadows she came from.

The rain has subsided, but every now and then a drop will splash onto Caleb's cheek, and after a while he realizes it isn't rain at all. He's crying. This isn't the first time he's been shot, but, if possible, it's worse than the last time. He'd done this to protect Hanna and the girls, just like he had that other time; but in this instance he may have done more harm than good. He can't stop replaying, on a loop, the scene at the bridge. The rain, the thunder, the feeling of helplessness. Of having lost her.

He spends what could very well be his last few minutes cursing himself for dropping his phone back at the house. There's no way to call for help, no way to come clean to Hanna. Another wave of agony sweeps over him and he rolls onto his good side, still trying to stem the flow of blood with his hand, which by now is as slippery as the grass beneath him.

He's still lying like this when, through his tears and a few specks of rain, he sees someone approaching. Someone small, with dark hair. With a horrible lurching feeling he knows who it is. Mona's come back to finish the job, and he can't do anything to stop her.

But the girl approaching him, he realizes, has an entirely different manner. She's walking slowly, looking left and right, and then she comes to a dead stop, staring at him. For a long moment both of them are still, but then the girl jumps into action. She sprints toward him, calling out something he can't quite catch, and in seconds she's on her knees in the grass beside him.

"Oh god," Aria murmurs, her impossibly wide eyes reflecting the shallow glow from the street light above them. She doesn't ask what happened, doesn't waste any time. She whips off her scarf, balls it up, hands it to him. "Here," she says, "use this to stop the bleeding."

Without waiting for a response she pulls out her cell and dials 911. While it's dialling she leans back a bit and calls out, the same name she had when she'd spotted him. Emily must be around here somewhere, Caleb thinks faintly, trying to sit up.

Aria pushes him back down with a muttered "don't move", and then directs her attention toward the phone. Caleb leans back again, breathing heavily and trying not to let the scarf slip from his grasp, and listens as Aria quickly relates their location and Caleb's condition to the operator. Her voice is calm but he can see her shaking, and he feels a pang of gratitude; this is quickly quelled by foreboding, because he can't help but think it's too late.

After Aria has organized the ambulance, with almost secretarial efficiency, she disconnects and dials another number, after quickly checking that Caleb's still with her. Relieved at not having to speak much, since even every breath is a struggle, Caleb is content to sit back and let her do the work.

"Emily and I have been looking for you," Aria explains while she's waiting for the next person to pick up. "We saw your car but we couldn't see you, so we split up. We thought it would be – oh,, Spencer, hi. Can you put Hanna on? We found Caleb."

Her attention once more on the phone, Caleb breathes out slowly, painfully, the mention of Hanna's name nearly enough to send him into a pool of guilt. He wants to talk to her, and he's just about to gesture to Aria to hand him the phone – this might be the last time he ever talks to her – when he notices something. A shadow, approaching cautiously.

"C-Caleb's been shot," Aria's saying into the phone, all efficiency in her voice now replaced with thinly disguised fear, and then the shadow reaches them. Before Aria can do anything, Mona snatches the phone from her hand.

"H-he's dead," Mona whimpers into the phone, sounding uncannily like Aria. Then she hangs up and looks at the two people before her. "Well, not quite yet," she quietly corrects herself, looking at Caleb. "But you're about to be."

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

**Nurse Aria to the rescue. Sort of.**

**So I realized yesterday that just about every chapter in this story ends on a cliffhanger. Yeah, this fic is a little intense. Gotta keep you interested somehow.**

**All righty, so thank you all very muchly for getting me to 60. That's just incredible. And if you're lurking, don't be shy; just leave me a review, it'll make me really happy.**

**Shoutout to ****AuthorABC123**** for calling that Caleb didn't actually cheat, and ****eveningshades1107**** and ****boo**** for guessing that it was Mona behind the gun. And thanks to Bagilia as always for the death threats, much appreciated.**

**As I've said before, this is not a happy story. But I like to think I know what I'm doing, so all the twists and turns are leading up to something. I don't do things for the hell of it, guys, I do them because they add to the story. So if you're going to leave me bad reviews, at least make them constructive.**

**Oh! As for the Ravenswood-y stuff last chapter, it's really not relevant. Like, go watch the show if you want to know, but you don't need it to be able to understand the story.**

**Okay. Finally. If you guys get me to over another 20 reviews before Thursday, I'll update right away. If not, I will update on Thursday (which will be after I get through the next episodes of Teen Wolf and PLL, and update Iridescence). So have it, and I'll see you next time!**


	6. End

**Shizam. That's what I'm talking about. You guys are so wonderful that I actually feel bad for what I'm about to do, but, well, here you go. Thank you kindly for all the reviews, and apologies again for all the cliffhangers. This is the second last chapter, so this intense journey is finally coming to an end and we all might be able to breathe again. So, 20 reviews and an update, sound good? See you guys next time!**

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"You did this." Aria gets to her feet, her voice like a snarl and her eyes on fire. "You set this whole thing up."

Mona shrugs, as much of an admission as she's going to give. "I have to admit, this isn't working out quite the way I'd hoped," she says. "It's somewhat… messier than I'd anticipated."

If Caleb weren't in so much pain, he would laugh at that understatement. Shooting him is _messy_? That's her problem with it?

Aria folds her arms, and Caleb notices her move ever so slightly, so that she's in between himself and Mona. A protective, pint-sized barrier. "You're not going to get away with this," Aria says, and Mona laughs.

"Oh, sweetie, I already have."

Although Caleb hates to admit it, he knows it's true. There's nothing they can do. By the time the ambulance reaches them, he'll be gone – and Aria too, if Mona gets her way.

There's a tense beat of silence, and then a sharp ringing breaks through it. Mona glances down at Aria's phone, which she's still holding. "Someone really wants to get a hold of you," she says. "I wonder what Spencer has to say."

Aria pales. "You leave her out of this."

"Hm." Mona taps her chin, mock-thoughtful. "Should I or should I not listen to someone who has absolutely no power over me or this situation?"

Caleb opens his mouth, wanting to help, to protect Aria, to save Hanna, to stop Mona, but he knows he can't. Nothing he says will make a difference, and he can hardly even stand. The edges of his vision are going blurry, black, like deathly shadows are creeping up on him, and he knows he doesn't have long left. Even the distant wailing of sirens doesn't cheer him, because he knows that if Mona is cornered, she'll do something desperate; and if she's not, she'll still do something crazy.

"You can't do this," Aria says, but she sounds less sure of herself. "You can still walk away from this. You haven't killed anyone yet. Why don't we keep it that way?"

"I could," Mona says, looking down again as Aria's phone goes off for the tenth time. "But that would be leaving loose ends, and you know how I feel about that."

"Are you really that insane?" Aria takes half a step back, stiffening as Mona pulls out her gun again. "I guess so," she mutters under her breath, staring in apprehension at the weapon.

Another wave of pain takes over Caleb, and he's barely had time to come up for air before the next one hits. He spasms, the scarf falling from his hand. It flutters onto the grass, stained bright red, and if he had the energy he would probably be sick at the sight. Instead he just closes his eyes, feeling weak and dizzy and knowing the end is almost here.

"Huh," Mona says, and Caleb's eyes flicker open. She's looking at a new message on Aria's phone, and Caleb sees the same thing he did before – something softer, more hesitant. But no matter how soft she becomes, he knows it won't be enough to redeem her, and it won't be enough to save him. "That's interesting," Mona muses.

Before either of the others can do anything, Mona takes a step forward and slams the butt of her gun into Aria's face. Surprise flits across Aria's face in the second before she drops to the ground, landing in an unconscious heap beside Caleb. Mona tucks Aria's phone into her hoodie, glances at Caleb, and, apparently deciding he's not long for this world and not worth shooting again, she stalks off.

Caleb closes his eyes as he hears Mona's footsteps fade into the distance. And his last thoughts are of Hanna as he feels his consciousness slip away.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

The wind is rushing past her and the water is rushing below, and still she can't find the tiny scrap of courage she needs to take that step. To plunge over the edge, to let the water take her, away from this heartache and this pain and this life. She notes absently that her shoes are still here, looking sodden and forgotten. Her bare feet are becoming cold and wet, but she knows that doesn't matter; she's about to jump, she really is, and then her entire body will be freezing cold and soaking wet.

"Just do it, Hanna," she mumbles under her breath. "Jump, damn it."

For a second she leans forward, swaying on the edge, but then she takes half a step backward, her reserves of courage – or foolishness – going dry. She hadn't really wanted to die earlier, but does she now? She's not drunk anymore, and the pain gives her the illusion of clarity. Caleb is gone, and she can't live without him. Doesn't that mean that she can't live at all? And if so, why can't she just jump?

For the second time tonight she's standing on the bridge, heartbroken and more alone than she'd thought possible. And for the second time tonight she realizes she isn't actually alone. There's the rumble of tires, barely audible over the distant thunder, and then the sound of a car door flying open. Hurried footsteps, someone calling her name.

Hardly daring to hope, she turns around. Maybe the message got jumbled, maybe he's okay, maybe it's –

Mona.

Hanna's heart sinks. There had been a time when she and Mona had been best friends, but she's nothing to her now. And Caleb isn't here, so he must be really dead. She abandoned him, forced him out of her house, and now it's her fault that he's gone. And here she is with Mona, the last person she would ever want to see.

"Hanna," Mona says carefully, coming to a stop a few feet away. "What are you doing?"

Glancing over her shoulder at her former friend, Hanna bites back a derisive response. _Isn't it obvious?_ She turns her attention back to the water and inches closer to the edge. She has the sudden hope that Mona is A, and that she's here to kill her. That would be less painful than another person trying to save her, because look how well it worked out for the last person who did that. "Go away, Mona," she says wearily.

"I know why you're out here." Mona sounds hesitant, a touch of almost genuine concern coloring her voice. "It's because of Caleb, isn't it?"

Hanna shrugs, not surprised that Mona knows.

"I'm sorry about that," Mona goes on. "I was the one who told you he was dead. I was the one who told him to pretend he cheated on you."

This is not surprising either. "Good for you," Hanna says listlessly.

"I never really left the A-Team," Mona continues, her voice becoming more certain. "I'm the reason Caleb broke up with you, and I'm sorry for that."

"Why are you telling me all this?" The water swirls below her, tempting and terrifying all at once.

"Because my best friend is standing out here about to kill herself," Mona responds tightly, and Hanna senses real concern in her voice. "I never meant for it to go this far. I just wanted Caleb out of the picture so that I could get on with the plan."

"Well, congratulations," Hanna says sourly, still inching toward the edge. She's barely balanced, and any sudden move, even a gust of wind, might be enough to push her over. She'd like that – for the choice to be taken out of her hands. "You got what you wanted."

"This isn't what I wanted," Mona protests. "I never meant for…"

There's a long pause, and Hanna almost lets herself fall. The second before she does, Mona speaks again.

"Caleb's alive."

"What?" Hanna breathes, the surprise almost making her fall over anyway. She takes a step back, turning to face Mona. It's probably a trick, a trap, a way for Mona to get the upper hand again. But what if it's not?

"Caleb's still alive," Mona says, her words sounding dark with the weight of an uncomfortable truth. "And I can take you to him. Just… please, come away from the ledge."

Hanna stays where she is for so long that she thinks all her limbs are going to freeze. That would be poetic; just turning to ice, unable to move or feel or breathe. Finally she says, "You can take me to him?"

Mona nods quickly, apparently eager to undo some of the damage she's caused. "Just come with me."

Slowly Hanna's limbs unfreeze, but her heart doesn't. She doesn't dare to hope, because if Mona's lying it means she'll be even more broken than she is now. She steps down from the ledge, quivering with fear and growing fury. She walks over to Mona, and then, very carefully, punches her in the face.

Mona stumbles back, surprised, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she just holds her hand up to her nose to stop the bleeding and starts walking toward the car. Hanna follows, breathing hard, feeling only slightly better for having enacted this minute revenge. It's not enough, but it's a start. Whether Caleb is dead or not, Mona deserves to hurt.

They climb into her car, and neither of them say a word. After what seems like forever they pull up outside a park, and Mona gestures with one hand, the other still being used to stem the flow of blood from her nose. Hanna gets out of the car and, ignoring Mona, walks over to the place she was pointed to. But even before she gets there, she knows it's no use.

And as she arrives there, and sees the damage Mona has caused, she knows it's too late. She sinks to her knees in the bloodstained grass, a wail already rising in her throat for all that she's lost and the empty life that stretches before her now. It's done, it's over, and she will never be okay again.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

**Before you hurl insults/knives/carrot sticks at me, please hear me out. There's only one chapter left, and it will answer (what I hope are) all of your questions. So please don't give up now. Just see it through to the end; who knows, I may surprise you.**

**For future reference, things I like include: long reviews, excited caps, and hashtags. So have at it, and I hope to see you all soon.**

**(please don't hate me.)**


	7. Goodbye

**Hey, what happened to you all? You've been so good at reviewing for the past few chapters, but then last time I thought I'd lost you. Ah well, I got my 100 reviews, so here I am with the final chapter. Shoutout to ****tobyequalshottness**** for being so attentive and thoughtful and combining all my favorite things into one review, and to ****RissyWrites**** for getting sucked into the story despite the ship. And of course, thank you to every single person who reviewed, at any point during the process; you've all been so lovely and this has been such a fun journey.**

**As for this chapter. It is one of the riskier things I've done, writing wise, so please go easy on me. If you have criticism, please tell me nicely and clearly, because vague bad reviews just do not help at all. And bear in mind that above all, I write for myself - so this is the ending *I* wanted, not necessarily the one I think you guys would want. That's how I've always written, and I hope I don't need to apologize for that.**

**Now, if you're brave enough, join me in this little game I like to call 'How much can Shadows mess with her readers in 1000 words?'**

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"Are you sure this looks okay?" Hanna turns around, looking at herself in the mirror, and immediately wants to change her outfit for the fifth time. "I don't want it to…"

Spencer moves from her place in the doorway, walking over to her and resting a hand on Hanna's shoulder. "Since when do you ever need fashion advice?" Spencer asks. Then she glances down, realizes she's wearing yet another of her collegiate blazers, and with a self-deprecating smile says, "Especially from _me_."

This prompts a small smile to play around Hanna's lips, but then she remembers what today is. "I'm not ready for this, Spence," she says softly.

The hand on her shoulder slides down and starts rubbing gentle circles on her back. "I know you're not. But do you think you'll ever really be ready for this?"

Opening her mouth to reply, Hanna realizes she doesn't have anything to say. She shakes her head, turns away from the mirror, and slumps down onto her bed.

"Come on," Spencer says, starting to walk over to the door. "Emily's waiting."

There are no more ways to stall, so Hanna follows Spencer downstairs, out the door, into blinding sunlight. It shouldn't be this bright. It's not right. Emily is already in the car, in the front seat, so Hanna slides into the back, pushing aside a potted plant and a bouquet of flowers.

"Who are these for?" she asks as Spencer steers the car away from the curb.

Spencer glances back at her, her lips tight and her eyes sympathetic. "Caleb," she replies.

Hanna lowers her eyes. "Oh."

The drive seems endless, even though it's only five minutes. All too soon Hanna's getting out of the car, her arms full of flowers and her heart full of sadness. As she walks up the front steps she feels Spencer on one side of her and Emily on the other, and she's grateful for the company.

She thinks about turning back, just going back home, but there's too much to do. Silently she follows Spencer into the room, and there he is. Caleb is lying in front of her, seemingly peaceful, but impossibly pale. For a moment she's frozen, and then Hanna slowly skirts around him, placing the bouquet and the pot plant by his head. It's deathly quiet, and Hanna's heart feels too loud, indecent.

Suddenly Caleb stirs, his eyes opening slowly. He sees Hanna and his eyes light up, a smile stretching across his face. "Hanna!" he says, forcing himself into a sitting position. He winces, but the smile overshadows that. Hanna returns it, settling down gently onto the hospital bed beside him.

Spencer and Emily share a look and then depart, the latter saying suggestively, "We'll be right outside."

As soon as they're gone, Hanna turns to him and kisses him. It's been almost a week since that night, since the night she found him and Aria unconscious on the grass. She can still hear the sirens wailing in her mind, the echoes of her own sobs when she thought she'd lost Caleb. The first day was touch-and-go, but his condition stabilized and by the second day he was allowed visitors. Their reunion had been joyous but tearful, and they've barely been apart since.

For the next ten minutes, Hanna and Caleb talk, and she feels a tentative kind of peace descend on her. This is how it used to be, how it's going to be from now on. Caleb's moving back to Rosewood, and they've vowed not to let anything get in the way of their relationship again.

Far too soon, Spencer sticks her head around the door. "We should get going now," she says softly. "The funeral starts in fifteen minutes."

Hanna nods, then turns back to Caleb. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll be here." Caleb smiles at his own lame joke, and they share a kiss before Hanna slides from the bed and walks out the door, already wishing she could be back in his arms. But some things are more important.

She looks at Emily and Spencer, pauses a moment, and then leads the way back to the car. The drive to the church seems too short, nowhere near enough time to prepare herself. It doesn't feel right, just the three of them; Aria should be here.

The church is already full, so they have to find seats up the back. A few people glance at them curiously, but Hanna keeps her head down. Suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder, and looks up.

"Aria!" she exclaims. "I didn't know if you were going to come."

Shrugging, Aria plops down on the pew next to Hanna. She gingerly touches the bruise across her face, courtesy of Mona, and then says, "My family's already here. It seemed strange not to tag along."

Hanna opens her mouth to respond, but the service starts so she switches her attention to the front. There'll be time for talking later.

"It is always devastating to lose someone so young," the minister begins, his eyes sweeping across the people gathered before him, "and it is nothing short of tragic when the person takes their own life."

Hanna swallows, her grip tightening around the piece of paper in her hand. The one she'd found in her locker the day after Caleb was shot. The one full of apologies and explanations and the unspoken implications. _I can't live with myself after what I did to you and Caleb, and to the others. I'm sorry, Hanna._

"Mona Vanderwaal was a talented student, a dedicated friend, a bright girl full of potential," the minister goes on. "She had her whole life ahead of her, and yet here we are to mourn her passing. Let us all take a minute of silence to privately reflect on this great loss…"

And in the silence, Hanna unrolls the note, lays it out flat in her lap, and reads the last words Mona ever wrote.

_I'm sorry for everything I put you through, and I know I can never redeem myself; but maybe, in time, you can start to forgive me. Tell the girls I really, truly wish them the best, and I hope you and Caleb are very happy together. Goodbye, Hanna._

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

**There you go. Don't forget to review, and I hope to see you in some of my other stories!**


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